"No?" Tommy sighed, "Maybe your assistant, Antonio, maybe he met him."
As the chef tried to walk past Tommy, Tommy grabbed ahold of him, shoving him up against the wall, "Here's how it is, Antonio was sent from New York."
"I don't know, please," The chef pleaded as Tommy held him against the wall.
"Darby Sabini facilitated, he passed him on to you and told you to bring him into my house, they threatened to kill you if you didn't do it," Tommy muttered, "You want me to dress you like you dressed that f*cking stag?"
"Please," The man pleaded.
"You know about me, right?" Tommy whispered.
"Mmhm," The chef nodded.
"You know what I do?" Tommy continued.
"Mmhm," He nodded again.
"You wanted to know when my guests would arrive because Antonio needed me alone, he's an assassin, the plan is to kill me tomorrow," Tommy whispered firmly.
"I don't know," The man replied, his voice riddled with fear, "They just said to bring him here."
"Well, bring him here," Tommy answered as he stepped back from the man, turning his attention to Florence as he guided her towards the back wall so that when the door opened, Antonio would be taken by surprise.
"Antonio," The chef called out, rambling some words in Italian.
"Is it fully loaded?" Tommy asked, gesturing towards her gun as she retrieved it from its holster.
"Indeed," Florence nodded, unlocking the safety catch, "Just say the word."
Tommy reached across her, retrieving a metal hook from the workbench, gripping it in his hand as the door slowly opened. Antonio spoke in indistinctive Italian, meaning neither Florence nor Tommy could understand and he spoke to the head chef who stood tentatively in the opposite corner.
Not daring to wait a moment longer, Tommy took his chance, swinging around the door and digging the large metal hook straight into Antonio's chest, causing him to let out a guttural scream of pain.
Tommy used the hook to shove Antonio against the wall before swinging him across the centre table that was covered in blood and chops of various animals. The man fell onto the floor and Tommy made his way around the room, picking up the man and dragging him up to the table so that his head was pressed against it.
Florence co*cked her gun, pressing it against Antonio's temple while Tommy did the same as the man wriggled in his grip.
"You're a black hand! You're a black hand!" Tommy shouted at the man, "How many came from New York? How many f*cking came from New York?"
"Vaffanculo!" Antonio spoke back, attempting to grab at Tommy.
"What did he say?" Tommy asked, pointing his gun at the head chef who stood quivering in the corner while Florence kept her gun pressed against Antonio's skull, "Is that a curse or a number?"
"What did he f*cking say?" Florence shouted.
"He said 'f*ck you'" The chef told them both.
"Yeah?" Florence exhaled, pressing her gun to the man's temple and shooting him point blank as blood splattered both Tommy and Florence while the head chef crumbled in fear in the corner.
Tommy let the body fall onto the floor in disbelief that the girl he once knew could kill a man so effortlessly, looking up at the chef, "The black hand means kill or be killed, you go back to London, you tell Darby Sabini he picked the wrong side in this war."
"Once we've dealt with the Americans we're coming for him," Tommy added as he came to her side, "Go on, go."
As the head chef scrambled from the floor, Tommy kept his gun pointed at him, "Oi! You tell anyone else, I'll come and find you."
The terrified man hurried out of the room, leaving behind a breathless Tommy and Florence, blood soaking their skin and their clothes. Tommy turned to look at Florence who's eyes were on the wall ahead of her. Despite the blood covering her skin she appeared completely composed. The girl he knew six years ago would've been cowering in the corner of the room, he concluded that there must have been more going on in London than she first let on.
Once Tommy had taken a moment to catch his breath he made a call to Johnny Dogs, and within an hour the three of them were standing in the blood soaked room, staring at Antonio's lifeless body.
"Oh f*ck, Tom," Johnny Dogs exclaimed, "I thought these sporting days were over."
"Yeah, so did I, but they keep coming back at us," Tommy sighed, "There's a black stallion in the stables, he's invisible at night, use him. Take the body across the river to the rough ground."
"Burn him?" Johnny Dogs asked.
"No," Florence spoke before Tommy could, "This one's a message."
"She's right." Tommy nodded.
"Will there still be geese for dinner?" Johnny Dogs asked.
"Only if you can steal them on the way," Tommy muttered.
"On the way where?" Johnny Dogs asked.
"We're going back, Johnny," Tommy replied, "Back to Small Heath."
"Back where you both belong," Johnny Dogs smiled as Tommy made his way out of the room, closely followed by Florence.
"Merry Christmas," Tommy called out, "You can keep the stallion."
"What's the plan?" Florence asked as the pair made their way back upstairs.
"We've gotta get out of here," Tommy sighed, "Get yourself cleaned up, there'll be some spare clothes upstairs in the spare room, third door on the left, I'll call George and tell him to bring the children to Watery Lane, and I'll get everything else sorted, I assume you drove?"
"My car's parked on the driveway," Florence told him.
"Right, well we'll take yours, I'll have someone drive mine down later," Tommy told her.
"Alright." Florence nodded.
Once she had almost completely clean skin and was dressed in clothes that she assumed were either once Grace's or the belongings of one of Tommy's whor*s, Florence hurried down the stairs to be met by the sight of Tommy, holding onto his son, the son Polly had told her about.
"You ready?" Tommy asked.
"Yeah."
"Charles, this is my friend, Florence, say hello." Tommy told the little boy.
"Hello," Charles waved, clearly shy and confused, "Is it Christmas?"
"Not just yet, let's go, eh?" Tommy told them both, "The bags are in the car."
"Have you called George?" Florence asked as the pair made their way out of the house, "How much did you tell him?"
"Enough for him to understand that this is a matter of life and death," Tommy told her, "With some truth redacted for the sake of your husband."
author's note: my heartbreakers are reunited (you are not ready for the next chapter...)
